


Figure from the Past

by starkerscoop



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Self-Blame, tony stark can give him one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26963404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starkerscoop/pseuds/starkerscoop
Summary: “Today is the anniversary of Ben’s death,” Peter barely choked out, “I still feel so guilty. It was all my fault, Tony -- I had my powers, I could’ve done something, I could’ve--”
Relationships: Peter Parker/Tony Stark
Kudos: 59





	Figure from the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: A little bit of hurt/comfort, but this time Peter is stressed and drinking Tony's whiskey (that's what Tony see when he comes back from the lab at night).

Tony could tell that something was wrong with Peter the moment he woke up. He was closed off and quiet, getting dressed and leaving without eating breakfast or saying goodbye to Tony; usually, he would try to drag out their mornings before having to head to college, but not this time. Tony worried about it as he worked in his lab, letting his mind drift away from his work. 

He didn’t leave the lab when the afternoon rolled around. Peter was going to be working at the cafe at this time, so he didn’t bother to. He did notice that Peter didn’t call him once he finished with his classes, though; two hours after their usual call time, Tony gave up and put his phone away. Peter would be too distracted with work to talk, now, anyway. 

But still, he worried. He worried that there was something going on that Peter hadn’t told him about; worried even more that this was the beginning of the end of their relationship. 

He couldn’t handle that thought and left his lab, taking the private elevator up to the penthouse he’d been sharing with Peter for the past two years. He checked his phone absentmindedly as the elevator moved, but there were no texts or calls from Peter, though he was surprised to find that it was already eleven at night. 

He hoped that Peter wasn’t asleep. They needed to talk, even if Tony himself didn’t like it. If Peter wanted to end their relationship -- and God, was that a painful thought, because _this was the man he wanted to marry_ \-- then they would cut ties then and there. Tony knew he wasn’t brave enough to be the one to bring it up, though. The Invincible Iron Man, falling under the possibility of a crumbling relationship. He was pathetic, but he’d rather torture himself and get to be with Peter for as long as he could. If Peter brought it up first, then, well. Tony couldn’t exactly stop him from leaving; could only watch him pack up their memories and take them with him, abandoning Tony with the burning embers of the remnants of their love. 

If Peter’s despondence had nothing to do with Tony, -- which he was willing to pray to any god for, for however long it would be necessary -- then Tony would talk to him about it unhesitatingly. 

But that was all if Peter was still awake. If he wasn’t, Tony was going to lie down next to him and try to show his support and devotion in a tight embrace that Peter had once claimed felt like coming home. It had been a cheesy comment; one that Tony had brushed off in the moment and teared up over later. 

The elevator doors slid open, revealing Peter sitting on the couch with his head clutched in his left hand, a bottle of Tony’s whiskey in his right. Immediately, alarm bells started ringing in Tony’s head. Peter wasn’t fond of alcohol of any kind. He wouldn’t be drinking for no reason. 

Tony gently grasped his right wrist and slid the bottle out of his hand, setting it down on the floor. 

“Peter?” Tony moved his left hand from where it was hiding his face, revealing red, puffy eyes and silver tear tracks that glistened in the light shining from the lamp next to them. 

“What?” Peter croaked, his voice garbled from his crying. 

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Tony prodded, carefully pulling him forward and into his arms, which he wrapped around the younger man with a tightness that promised eternal support. 

Peter tucked his head under Tony’s chin, smearing his tears on the front of his shirt, “Everything is just so hard today.” 

“Tell me about it,” Tony suggested, his hand coming up to card through Peter’s curls, which he hadn’t bothered to style today -- another red flag he’d noticed earlier in the day. 

“Today is the anniversary of Ben’s death,” Peter barely choked out, “I still feel so guilty. It was all my fault, Tony -- I had my powers, I could’ve done something, I could’ve--”

Tony couldn’t believe that he’d forgotten. They had had similar conversations on this exact day in all the years that they’d been together, leaving Peter downcast and Tony electing to cheer him up each time. This was one of the most important anniversaries in Peter’s life, and Tony had forgotten. Guilt slammed into him with full force and curled up in his chest to stay for the foreseeable future, making him feel nauseous from the strength and potency of it, but he forced himself to ignore it. This wasn’t about him. Peter needed him, so he returned his attention to their conversation.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Tony chided, resulting in Peter pulling away from him with a confused look on his face, “His death was in no way your fault. It was the robber’s fault. It wasn’t you holding the gun, and it wasn’t you that fired it. You were so young; you barely knew what abilities you even had. I didn’t know your uncle, but Pete -- do you really think he would want you to blame yourself for this?” 

For a long moment, Peter was silent, burning holes into the rug Tony had, had flown in from Asia. Finally, in a weak voice that seemed to be two seconds away from breaking, he admitted, “No.” 

“Well, there you go,” Tony said, relief cooling the concern that had been racing through his veins, “How do you feel about having a movie marathon? It’ll get your mind off of this.” 

“Don’t you have three meetings tomorrow?” Peter asked him, rubbing his swollen eyes tiredly. 

Tony smiled at him reassuringly, tugging him onto the couch and into his side, “Wouldn’t be the first time I showed up tired.”

Peter settled down with his head cushioned on Tony’s lap, slinging an arm around the older man’s waist and turning to face the TV, “I love you.” 

Tony slipped a hand under Peter’s shirt, rubbing his stomach in soothing circles. “I love you, too.”


End file.
